


Hooked

by Govi



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-26
Updated: 2010-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-07 13:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Govi/pseuds/Govi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Paul Sheppard is Sean's character in <i>Tom and Thomas</i></p>
    </blockquote>





	Hooked

**Author's Note:**

> Paul Sheppard is Sean's character in _Tom and Thomas_

** Hooked **   


 

When the last guests were gone and with only the catering people gathering glasses and plates, Paul slumped into a chair. The exhilaration of the last few days because of selling all his works started to backfire and suddenly he was tired. There was an open, almost full champagne bottle on the table and he was planning to drink it before he went home. He had stuck to water and juice all day and he deserved to get drunk, if only a bit. The boys were staying at their aunt’s so he could do as he pleased.

He was just about to fill a glass when Viggo stepped in. Grinning at Paul he snatched away the bottle.

“You shouldn’t be drinking alone, Paul, especially not on a night like this.”

Viggo was one of the other two artists Paul shared this exhibition with and they had liked each other from the first time they met. Viggo was fun to be with and really down to earth as Paul had soon found out. Still, he was rather eccentric. To today’s closing party he had dressed in worn out jeans and a wrinkled, button down shirt and now he was wearing what looked like a long black scarf around his neck. Paul could smell the perfume scent that oozed from it.

Paul tried to grab the bottle but Viggo held it behind his back, far out of reach.

“Get your own bottle, this one has my name on it.”

Again Viggo smiled at him,

“Are you always this selfish, Paul?”

Viggo looked him up and down, words filled with innuendo, and Paul blushed. It had been like that for the last three day and Paul had been cautiously answering the flirtation. He wasn’t sure if Viggo was just joking, or if there was more to it.

“Where did you get that scarf, you daft git?”

“Someone must have left it, it was hanging over a chair. Don’t you like it? ”

Stepping closer he offered Paul the scarf,

“It’s silk and great quality. I think it would look delicious against your pale skin.”

Again Paul blushed, but he took the fabric between his fingers, Viggo was right; it felt soft and luxurious.

Without taking his eyes off Paul, Viggo called out to the gallery owner,

“Curt?”

“Coming!” Curt yelled back from somewhere behind and then stuck his head around the corner. “What is it Viggo?”

“Mind if Paul and I use your office for a while? We have something to discuss.”

“Sure, go right ahead boys,’ and he was off again.

“C’mon, “Viggo said, holding the bottle in one hand and grabbing Paul’s arm with the other.

Paul let himself be more or less dragged to the small office in the front, not even pretending to resist. As soon as they stepped in and the door closed behind them, Viggo pushed Paul bodily against it. He held the bottle against Paul’s mouth and tilted it, forcing Paul to drink. He did, but he couldn’t avoid a small stream escaping from the corner of his mouth and he pushed the bottle away. Before he could blink Viggo was already on him, licking the trail from Paul’s chin down to his neck, while his hands worked on the hem of Paul’s sweater, pulling it up and finally over his head.

Viggo’s mouth latched onto his nipple and Paul arched his back, turning his head to the side. Curt’s astrakhan coat hung on a hook screwed into the door, it had been raining for days and the coat smelled like wet dog, but Paul couldn’t care less. The fabric tickled his naked back and he rubbed against it. Paul moaned when Viggo opened his fly and pushed his black jeans down to his knees, together with his boxers, freeing his cock. He felt a firm but soft touch on his flesh and when he looked down, Viggo’s hand, wrapped in the silk scarf, was working his cock. It felt almost insanely good and Paul whimpered when Viggo let go. He didn’t resist when Viggo grabbed his hands and tied his wrists together; by now he would have agreed to anything.

Viggo leaned in to kiss him and Paul kissed back eagerly, small sounds escaping from the back of his throat. In the distance he heard the faint noise of glasses breaking and he knew there were people close and someone could step in at any moment, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember why he should care. Viggo lifted Paul’s arms, grabbed Curt’s coat and threw it behind him, then attached Paul’s tied wrists to the iron hook.

Paul cried out when a large gulp of cold champagne hit his body, streaming down and soaking his new black jeans, but he didn’t protest, not with Viggo following the stream with his tongue, lapping up rivulets in a way that made him shiver almost violently. Again and again cold liquid hit his body and again Viggo’s tongue drank from Paul’s quivering body. By the time Viggo was finally down on his knees the bottle was empty.

Paul bucked wildly when Viggo finally took him in, tongue pressing against the throbbing vein, a faint scrape of teeth and he had a fleeting thought hoping the hook would bear the weight as his knees seemed unable to hold him up. Keeping his eyes closed, Paul tried picturing his naked body, hanging from the door, sticky and gleaming with champagne.

He came, head thrown back, only barely suppressing the scream that wanted to escape.


End file.
